


Quiet Times and Quiet Loving

by Starsrainpain



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellamy adores Clarke, Bellamy is Tender, Bunker Sex, Could Be Canon, Could be at any point in canon up to s4, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Murphy ships it, No Smut, One Shot, POV Bellamy Blake, Post-Coital Cuddling, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sex is mentioned, There aren't enough aftercare fics, based on my very limited experience with sex, sex and aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsrainpain/pseuds/Starsrainpain
Summary: Bellamy wants to give her the world- but for now, he'll settle for taking care of her after sex.-





	Quiet Times and Quiet Loving

**Now**

 

Bellamy sighs as his orgasm washes over him. He lets himself fall over Clarke, who gasps at the sudden contact- he’d been careful to not let his chest touch her back, during. They lay still for a moment before Bellamy sits up, carefully pulling himself out of her and moving so he sits with his knees on either side of her hips. He pulls her hair away from her face and kisses her forehead from above her. 

 

Bellamy trails his fingertips along her spine as he moves above her to unfasten her wrist from the rope that held it close to the bed frame. He undoes the knot, kisses her knuckles, and moves her hand down so that it rests on his knee, then repeats the process with the other wrist. When both wrists are freed, he helps her roll over, careful to not pull on her skin- Stars know he’s done enough to mark her pale skin. Once she’s flat on her back, she carefully flexes her fingers against his skin, drawing a shiver from him. “Okay?” He whispers, and she nods. They grin softly at each other. 

 

He strokes her face gently for a moment before pulling away from her, and she whines at the removal. “I’ll be right back,” He says, leaning back over her and brushing her cheek bone with his thumb. She leans into the touch and hums softly at him, wide eyes meeting his for reassurance. He smiles, because she trusts him and she’s beautiful. “I’m not going far, Princess.” 

 

**Then**

 

“Where are we going?” She was clearly worried that they wouldn’t make it home at a reasonable time if they kept travelling at the pace they were going. But Bellamy only tossed a grin over to her and reached out for her hand, which she gave to him. 

 

“I thought you trusted me.”

 

“Implicitly,” She said, and he laughed because he hadn’t heard anyone but Clarke use that word in years. “But I still want to know where you’re taking me.” His feet came to a stop and he turned to her, soft smile poking through his usually serious face. He couldn’t help it. He was excited.

 

“Just,” He grabbed her other hand and pulled her a step closer to him. She raised an eyebrow, telling him to continue. “Let me take care of you, Princess.” She rolled her eyes and sighed, but smiled all the same. 

 

“Lead the way.”

 

**Now**

 

He’s only gone for a few seconds, but as he watches Clarke’s thighs tremble from exertion, it feels much longer. He brings a wet cloth to her when he comes back, having already discarded the one he’s used. Bellamy reaches for one of her legs and gingerly spreads her apart, wiping carefully at her folds. The wet cloth is set aside and replaced with a dry towel. “Can you lift your hips for me, baby?” He asks, and Clarke hums as she does what he’s asked. He lays the towel underneath her hips, and she sighs as her hips come down atop it. 

 

(It’s a ritual that makes her heart soar. He’d only let her drip onto his sheets one time before he caught on to how uncomfortable it was for her to lay in the stickiness that came out of her after sex. Every time since then, he’d lay the towel down, let her lay on it for a few minutes as the excess fluids drain out of her, and then remove it. It left the bed dry, clean, and comfortable for her.)

 

Bellamy crawls back into the bed with her, taking each of her wrists in his hands and drawing them to his lips. “Thank you,” He whispers, and she bites her lip, because she knows he isn’t done, just like he knows that she has things to say, even if she won’t say them for a while. “I know-” He clears his throat with a quiet cough in the back of his mouth. “I know it can be hard to keep going.” He pushes her hair away from her face again, pulls her closer to his body. She nestles into his chest as his hand drops to her waist. “I can be really hard on you.” He punctuates this by gently sliding his hand along her ass. It’s throbbing, and it probably feels like she’s just stuck her ass in the fire back home, but he hopes that his hand, still damp from the cloth, soothes it, if only for a moment. She hums and wiggles her hips at him. He had been rougher tonight than usual, but she had asked for him to be. 

 

“It’s going to bruise.” She whispers, voice still caught in her throat. She’s always tender after sex, and the softer he is, the more emotional she gets. 

 

“I know.” He wets his lips. “Is that okay?” His eyebrows are drawn together, trying to show her his concern. Clarke nods and burrows further into him. 

 

**Then**

 

“Is there some sort of special occasion that I missed?” She laughed, and he shook his head, black curls flaring out around him for a moment before resting back against his head. They kept walking, trees seeming to bend around them to conceal this stolen moment. 

 

It isn’t often they get a chance to do this. He was always trying to help or train someone, and she was always running between her many jobs.  _ DoctorLeaderFriendWomanLoverMuseChancellor.  _ But Bellamy had decided that she needed a break. He just wanted to hold her for a while, give her something that she could appreciate without worrying about the consequences. He loved her and she worked herself too hard. He wanted to make her feel good. 

 

“Bell,” She paused, waiting for him to look her in the eyes. “Will you at least tell me that you took care of everything at home before we left?” He nodded. 

 

“Of course.” He smiled at her. He knew that for the next hour or so, she’d worry about being away from her responsibilities. But after that, after he was done with her, she’d be loose and soft and easy going. She wouldn’t worry unless he did. She’d let his heart take her head away for a few hours.

 

**Now**

 

It’s still and quiet for a moment before he shifts. She tries to cling to him, and he lets her for a moment, but he finally shrugs her off with a hush and a whispered “You’re okay,” He doesn’t even go off the bed, just reaches behind them and finds a blanket. He pulls it over them and lets her snuggle back into him. His hand settles over the welt that’s forming on her rear again, trying to soothe it down. 

 

“I don’t think I can do much about this right now,” He whispers into her hair. She’s digging her nose into his jaw and it hurts a little, but he can stand it. “But in a few minutes, when you’re skin isn’t so irritated, I’ll try to get the muscles to calm down.” He tightens his hold on her torso for a fraction of a second, trying to warm her up to responding to him. “Sound good?” She nods, and he  _ tsk _ s. “What was that?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Good.” There’s a second where he almost thinks she’s crying, but she pulls away from him just as he’s getting concerned. She only goes far enough so that she can look at him. 

 

“Can you-” She cuts herself off, frowns. He nods at her, waiting for her to continue. “My neck got stuck holding my head in a weird…. Way.” Her voice goes quiet at the end, like she isn’t quite sure what she’s asking for. But Bellamy knows. 

 

“Are you good to move yet?” He asks, and she frowns again, but nods. She sits up and he joins her, spreading his legs and helping her wiggle into the space between them. He moves the towel from underneath her as she goes, throws it in a distant corner. 

 

When she’s settled between his legs, back to chest, she shivers. “Was this position alright?” Bellamy asks as he puts his flat palms on her shoulders. She hums in front of him, seemingly mulling it over. 

 

“It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t supposed to be.” She starts, which Bellamy counts as a red flag. 

 

“Was it uncomfortable?” 

 

“No,” She says quickly. He puts pressure at the junction of her shoulder and her neck and she hisses quietly. There’s a bruise there, probably his doing. “It was a little weird, not being able to support my upper half with my arms. But I could use my elbows and that was okay.” 

 

“Did it feel a little impersonal to you?” 

 

“Yeah,” She whispers, and he brushes her hair to one side. “How did you know?” 

 

“It felt the same way for me.” He pauses. He didn’t like not being able to see her face, watch her come. And it was harder to reach for her boobs. He loves her back, he really does, loves her whole body, but not being able to see  _ her _ \- her emotions, her gazes, her expressions- not only made it feel like she was hiding from him, but it worried him. She could’ve been faking everything, and he wouldn’t know unless she told him, which was one of his biggest fears. “I liked spanking you, though.” As much as they have experimented in the past, they’ve rarely participated in spanking. She likes it a lot, he knows, but she rarely asks for it. 

 

“Me too. That’s nice.” She says as he presses his thumb against the base of her skull. 

 

“So do we like this position with the rope? I liked tying you up, as usual.” He mutters the last part, and Clarke snorts in front of him. He runs his knuckles down each side of her neck and she rolls her shoulders towards him. 

 

“I liked the rope.” She says quietly. He can practically hear her biting her lip. 

 

“But?”

 

“But I was worried about hitting my head on the bed frame the whole time.”

 

“So it made it less fun.”

 

“It was still fun. I liked it a lot.”

 

“I know you did.” She had liked it. She’d come twice, and that was only while he was penetrating her. She’d come at least that many times beforehand, too. 

 

“I did.” She sighs as his hands move to the base of her neck. “But you’re right. I fell out of the zone a couple times because I almost smashed my nose into the wood here.” She indicates the bedframe opposite them with a nod and he licks his lips again. 

 

“You dropped?” She’s quiet for a minute before she responds. 

 

“I did.”

 

They’re both quiet. It’s both spoken and unspoken between them that if either of them drops, they should let the other know. It helps them with this part, the after, and it ensures trust between them. He rests his forehead against her shoulder. 

 

“Were you okay?” He finally asks, because the  _ why didn’t you tell me  _ that’s at the tip of his tongue isn’t as important as her wellbeing. She’s shaking a little, now, and he hates it. 

 

“I think so.” 

 

“I’m not upset.” He assures her quietly. She nods, but she’s still trembling in short bursts. 

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now.” She says, methodical. It’s what he wants to hear, but that’s the only reason she’s saying it. 

 

“What happened to the no lying rule?” He asks, barely a whisper, against her shoulder blade. His hands have long since stopped moving, but he takes this moment to push his thumbs against the muscles at the tops of her arms. She shrugs. He almost cries.

 

**Then**

 

When he stopped in the middle of seemingly nowhere and looked off into the trees like he was observing a bird flying above them, it drove Clarke mad. 

 

“What are you looking at?” She asked, and he grinned at her. “Why did we stop?” She pulled on the sleeve of his old, beaten jacket. “Bellamy, please.” 

 

He smiled widely at her and looked down at the ground, scuffing his boot in the dirt. “I don’t know, Princess. Maybe we should just-” He was cut off by Clarke’s gasp as she finally saw the door that he was standing on. 

 

“Bunker?” She said, mostly to herself, and Bellamy let out a full laugh. Her wide eyes jumped to his, and after a moment, her gaze darkened a bit. “Bunker.” A mischievous smile was working its way onto her face, and he knew that she’d figured it out. He reached down and opened the door. 

 

**Now**

 

It’s been silent for several long minutes now, and Clarke still trembles against him as he pulls his fingers through her hair. He knows that it’s her turn, that she’ll talk when she’s ready- He may have pushed her a bit by making her talk so soon. 

 

“I didn’t want to ruin it for you.” She finally says, so quietly that if he hadn’t had his nose against her back, he wouldn't have heard it. He sits up and wraps his arms around her middle, pulling her against him. Her hands latch onto his forearms, and he squeezes her gently. 

 

“That’s okay.” He reassures. She sighs, clearly relieved. “It wouldn’t have ruined it for me, though.” It’s his turn to sigh, now. “We need to be able to tell each other when drops happen. You remember our words, right?” 

 

“Soft stop is pencil. Hard stop is Ark.” She says immediately, and he smiles softly. 

 

“What if you can’t talk?” He asks, and she crosses her thumb under her index finger and pops it out next to her middle finger. She waves it at him over her shoulder. He smooths his hands down her arms, willing her to put it down. “I’m glad that you know them. Were the drops hard or soft?”

 

“Very soft. I barely even noticed. I didn’t want to stop you just because I let my brain wander a little.” She’s smirking again, and the trembling has stopped. She’s okay. 

 

“Next time will you please try to tell me?” He’s whispering so that he doesn’t scare her off. She nods. 

 

“I was having fun. It was worth it.” She’s comforting him now, and he laughs into her neck because he’s fine. He trusts her and if she didn’t feel like she needed an out, he won’t worry. “Thank you.” 

 

“Thank you too. Now, how about that ass?” Clarke’s cackle fills the room.

 

**Then**

 

Bellamy extended a hand to her, guiding her down the stairs into the bunker that he’d found a few weeks prior. It was much cleaner now, stocked with pillows and blankets and snacks. 

 

(It was Miller and Murphy who helped him clean it. They didn’t know what he would use it for, but they didn’t ask. They folded blankets and dusted shelves and swept the floor. The only time either of them questioned it was when they inspected the thick mattress on the bed. “This’ll be useful, huh?” Murphy had said, raising an eyebrow at Bellamy. He’d rolled his eyes. 

 

“Not to you.”)

 

Even though it was small- a bed, pushed against one wall, a couch on the other, a table in the middle, a door leading to a small bathroom to the right, and a wall of shelves to the left- it didn’t feel cramped. It was comfortable, especially with the warm glow from the two lanterns on the walls. Bellamy set Clarke down on the couch and turned to the table, hiding as much as he could from her as he unloaded his backpack. 

 

(The ropes, his book, and her sketchpad stayed inside. The surprise wasn’t over yet.)

 

It was a secret indulgence that both of them enjoyed- finding places where they could pretend things weren’t the way they were. The thing that Bellamy liked about this bunker was that it was small enough to be intimate while maintaining the false sense of normalcy- There were only two people who could find them here, so as far as they knew, the world outside didn’t exist. They could be whoever and wherever they wanted. 

 

He laid out the food that Murphy had made for him. (“I don’t know what you’re planning,” Murphy had said. “But we can’t have the two of you starving while you’re out.”) Although the food was simple, it was perfect. 

 

“Are we just eating, or is there more to this scheme?” Clarke wondered. Bellamy heard her shift, then stand, and he spun around, wielding a wooden spoon.

 

“Sit down.” He said, indicating the couch with the end of the spoon. Clarke raised an eyebrow at him, then laughed. 

 

“Fine.” She sat. 

 

When the food was laid out, Bellamy took a deep breath. She’d like it. He knew she would. And none of it was food that would upset her stomach if she were rocked around a little bit, so there was no threat of vomit later. 

 

Clarke was getting impatient behind him- he could hear her shuffling her legs around, crossing and uncrossing and crossing them again and again. It gave him the final push he needed. 

 

He hadn’t actually thought of the reveal beforehand, so he just turned around and looked at her expectantly. She matched his gaze, waiting for him to invite her over. His mind scrambled for the words. “Do you want to come eat with me?” Was what his mind came up with, and he immediately flushed. Clarke just grinned at him. 

 

“It’s cute that you still get flustered asking me to eat with you.” She smirked at him as she came to join him at the small table. Before she sat down, she stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.” She said earnestly, and he sighed. 

 

“Anytime.”

 

**Now**

 

Clarke lays on her stomach, allowing Bellamy to inspect the damage. 

 

“It’s already bruising. What’s your level of pain?” He brushes his hand down her back and legs, down to the backs of her knees and up again. She squirms. 

 

“A four or a five. My muscles just feel like they’re clenched.” She answers, her voice slightly muffled by the mattress. She’s laying as flat and straight as she can be, which is hard, because she’s also trying to breathe. Bellamy watches her take a few deep breaths.

 

“Tell me if anything feels wrong.” He reminds her, and she nods. He knows that most of what he’ll get out of her will be moans and sighs. She loves having her back rubbed, doesn’t let herself indulge in it enough. She’s only corrected him on how to fix her back a handful of times, and none of them recent. He’s learned the map of her back almost as well as he’s learned the maps of the surrounding areas. He’s warming her up in long, sweeping motions when the first sound comes out of her. It’s a little whine, straight from the back of her throat. He’s lucky that she isn’t insecure about her sounds any more. He loves them, and it’s easier for her to enjoy herself when she isn’t worried about volume level. The next sound that he draws out of her is a moan in the shape of a sigh as he gently squeezes the muscled flesh around her hips. He smirks to himself a little. “Feel good, Princess?” She only groans in response. 

 

**Then**

 

They ate in relative quiet, both knowing what was likely in store for the night. The air was thick with anticipation as they talked about their hopes for the future. Neither said it, but they were both thinking about marriage. For Bellamy, it had never been something he’d let himself imagine. But now, as he sat across from Clarke, in their own little world, he let himself imagine a reality where they could be together openly- not that they were keeping it a secret, but they definitely held back their affections when they were in the presence of others. He let himself imagine little hands, waving in the air and clenching down on blond hair that she could never keep tame. He let himself want that reality with Clarke. 

 

“Is this a date?” Clarke asked, no preamble. Bellamy blinked at her, then laughed. 

 

“Yeah, Clarke, it’s a date.” 

 

“Are we really a dating couple though?”

 

“I mean, we are here. On a date.” He smiles at her as she huffed at him. 

 

“You know what I mean.” She threw a piece of bread at him and he laughed again. 

 

“I do.” They traded warm smiles, and without saying anything else, stood from their seats. 

 

“What else do you have it store for me, Bell?” She asked, her smirk making it apparent that she likely already knew. Bellamy beamed at her, reached for his backpack, and pulled her onto the bed with him. 

 

**Now**

 

Bellamy rubs until she’s putty in his hands and then some. She’s practically melted into the bed. Her muscles are relaxed, and he’s confident that he’s quelled any soreness that may have come in the morning. She’s appreciative, if the content little sighs she’s letting out are any indication. 

 

“I love you,” He says, drawing his hands up towards the top of her spine. She yawns in response, then giggles. Bellamy feels his heart in his throat. 

 

“What’s next?” She asks, indicating that she’s alright with it if they wrap up their after care. Bellamy moves so that he’s laying against the headboard, pillows under head, and motions for her to join him. She crawls up his body, finding her favorite spot on his chest. His arm automatically comes around her as he reaches for his backpack. He pulls out his book and her sketchpad, laying them out in front of her. 

 

“What do you want, Princess?” He’s greeted with a quiet hum, and when he looks to her, her eyes are closed and she’s nestling further into him. “Clarke?” He asks, much quieter. She hums at him again. She’s falling asleep. “What do you want?” He’s whispering now, giving her another chance. She sighs against him. 

 

“You.” She wiggles a little, somehow pulling herself closer. “Forever.” 

 

And Bellamy’s heart soars. 

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: Everyone is different and every scene is different, so don't take this fic as how aftercare should always work! Please don't feel like you're doing it wrong if your after sex time doesn't match this fic- However! If your aftercare isn't working for you and you need something to change, HAVE THAT CONVERSATION WITH YOUR PARTNER. Safe, Sane, Consensual applies to all parts of sex- before, during, and after. And as always, don't practice BDSM without having guidelines. Make sure everyone involved knows what's going on. 
> 
> I live and breathe for comments good and bad. Let me know how I did!


End file.
